Monsters
by colej67
Summary: A chance meeting with a random human on the streets of New York leaves Loki wondering about what it really means to be a monster, and what really drives him. Takes place during the events of the movie.


**This is my first Avengers Story. I really wanted to explore Loki's mind and try to figure out what made him tick, and to get behind the various road blocks of insanity that keep him from understanding his own pain. I really don't know if I accomplished my goal but I was trying to discover how his own trauma might affect how he relates to everything else. **

** Please be lenient, dear readers. I have never written these characters before and I don't know if I've got the hang of it. I'm not trying to absolve the character of his wrong doings, just trying to piece together how I see him as a character and how that would fit with his own tragic past.**

….

_ Hypocritical bitch, _Loki thinks to himself. Black Widow sits across from him in a newly constructed prison. While his veins fill with a foul liquid concocted by S.H.I.E.L.D scientists to make him weak, impotent, _human, _this assassin starts to read him a list of his misdeeds.

"Well," she says with a little smile, "You're ledger is _oozing_ Loki. Look at it." She picks up a stack of papers from her lap and pushes it towards his face. "In my hands I hold all your naughty acts over the past few days. It's quite a handful. And to think you presumed to guilt trip me. No matter what I may have done I never amassed a list like this in such a short time."

"Well, not only are you a killer, but a mediocre as well. I could give you a demonstration of how it's done, if you wish." Loki doesn't smile but his eyes sparkle. He's simply too tired to raise the corners of his mouth. But not too tired to speak, with his powers drained the only gift he has left is his golden tongue.

"Camilla Donovan, age 38" Romanov reads from the stack of papers, her voice dripping with hatred and condescension, "Assistant Prosecutor for the State of New York and a loving wife and mother of three children. You strangled her to death. Her body was found in an alley; she barely looked human."

It's on the tip of his tongue to scream, '_SHE DESERVED IT!' _but he does not let it escape. His motivations are nobody's business but his own.

"Was it fun for you? Hm? Taking an innocent persons life like that? Is that what you like? Is that what gets you off?"

"Yes."

Romanov backs up a little in disgust and Loki does smile this time. It hurts his face to do so, but he just cannot find it in himself to care. Even with all she's done, he can still make her back away.

Loki leans forward as far as he can; S.H.I.E.L.D has taken no risk in securing him. He is bound from head to foot. "It was very fun for me. Watching the veins in her eyes pop, the way the blood ran down her face. But what I loved most was the way she tried to scream. My grip was simply too strong for it to do any good but boy did she try." He licks his lips for effect.

"Let me ask you another question, does your brother know what a sick fuck you are?"

Ah, the Thor card. It took her long enough to throw the thunder god in his face. Still he flinches at the words. No matter how prepared he was for it, thoughts of Thor still sting.

"Thor is…to use a human phrase… an idiot." He says after some hesitation. He curls his fists, trying to repress the spark of fondness that statement strikes in him. His stomach rolls in revulsion as the left over love he feels for his brother comes back to haunt his mind. To Romanov he must look enraged. This is what he hopes for, at least.

"I have to agree with you on that one. That idiot still believes there's hope for you. He's the only reason you're still alive you know."

This is news. He bottles up his own shocked feelings and puts up a face of sheer boredom.

"I would have killed you dead to rights, to save us all from the next time you decide that world domination sounds like a good idea. But Thor…Thor would have turned this world upside down in retaliation."

"And why do you suppose to tell me all this? Surely you have more motivation than seeking out my _wonderful_ company."

Romanov smiles. It is a smile full of venom. In Loki's opinion she has never looked more attractive.

"Because I realized something. The worst thing we could ever do to you is letting you know you're only still breathing because of him. You owe Thor for every second of your life from now on. Without him, there would be no you. And no matter how much you hate him, you'll owe him your life, forever."

He can't stop the anger from seeping in his voice. In a whisper he responds, "I owe Thor nothing. No matter what you may think, I will not let you or anyone else hold my own survival against me. My life will not be your pawn, to be used to guarantee good behavior. If you think leaving me alive means you have any control over me, you're sorely mistaken."

"No matter. In a few short minutes you'll be heading to Asgardian jail. From what I hear, that's not going to be a very pleasant experience. You're going to be bound and gagged, and dragged home in shame. Everyone will know the extent of your misdeeds. And they will revile you. Even your father will curse your name."

_As if he doesn't already, _Loki thinks. But again he keeps his thoughts silent. Months ago such a comment would have brought tears to his eyes, would have filled him with such sadness and self hatred. Now they just leave him hollow.

"Why are you still here Widow? Why aren't you with the rest of your…friends? Hm? Instead of gallivanting with the heroes, you're here in the pits with me. Seems appropriate, don't you think? A murderer like you left alone in the dark with a monster."

Natasha Romanov stands and adjusts her clothes. The look on her face is one of triumph.

"My friends are waiting for me. I just wanted to get one last look at you in defeat. With all of your talk of ultimate power and subjugation you still ended up immobilized and in chains. It's a good look for you. At least I have the intelligence to have picked the winning side."

As she walks toward the door, Loki can't help but throw some parting words her way. It's the one thing he knows will ruin her day of success. And wipe that damn self satisfied look off her face.

"Tell Clint I said hello. And that I enjoyed our…intimate time together."

That does it. Without turning around she goes for the gun at her side. Her hand freezes and she tries to steady herself. He can see the war going on in her mind. Should she risk angering Thor for her own vengeance?

She resumes her walk up the stairs, but he isn't done, not yet.

"Oh don't worry," he calls out, "There was no physical intimacy. But I was in his mind, dear. I saw into the deepest recesses of his soul, where he hides the most secret parts of himself. A place you'll never see. You can never hope to be as close to him as I am."

She gives him one last look. It is one of determination and in a second he can tell it is a mask. She is disgusted and disheartened by what he just said. There is a sadness being hidden behind her nerves of steel. Only she doesn't understand that the harder she fights to hide it, the worse it becomes visible. Then she slowly and quietly leaves the room, making sure to close the door softly, so as not to betray the emotions warring within her.

Loki breathes a sigh of relief as soon as she's gone. Now he can drop this façade, at least for a little while. No matter how much practice he's had at concealing his inner emotions over the years, they can still take their toll.

He leans back in his steel chair, getting as comfortable as he's able, which isn't comfortable at all. At least they could have put cushions on the damned thing. S.H.I.E.L.D could use a little course in how to be good hosts. At least the Iron drunk had offered him a little alcoholic hospitality, during the middle of a battle no less.

His entire body aches, especially his back. If he closes his eyes he still feels as if he is being thrown about by that big green monstrosity. He even feels the crash as he creates a dent in the floor. It only happened once but with his eyes closed it happens over and over again. With that feeling comes shame. Shame at the idea that he has been bested by these fools. How could they have possibly defeated him?

He grits his teeth, and then he takes a breath. He is only defeated if he believes it is so. The minute he accepts ruin is the minute they win. It is the minute Thor wins. And hasn't his brother won too much?

No, this is only the beginning. He has his life and he has his magic. He also has a one way ticket home. Sure it will be in chains but it isn't as though he hasn't been shamed already. It will just be…another obstacle for him to overcome. When he is finally seen as the superior being that he is, all these bumps along the way will just be stepping stones to his success. He'll just have to find another way. And, though he hates to believe it so, he misses his home.

_I'm sure, in time, I can convince myself of all of this, _Loki thinks. Being the trickster god, such ruses are his domain. How could he claim such a title if he didn't have the power to trick himself on occasion? If he pretends it long enough, it will become fact. He will be the most powerful being in all the realms: feared, respected… '_and loved' _the tiny, lonely spot in his mind whispers hopefully.

He clinches his fists and wills that pitiful thought away. It's a weakness and it must be expunged. So must all thoughts of Thor and Odin and thoughts of his false childhood. They are tethers to pain and torment that will keep him from ascending to his glorious destiny. It is love and affection and his desires for both that will forever keep him down. So, to counteract such things, he realizes he must focus on his hate.

He searches his memory until he comes to the name Romanov threw at him. Camilla Donovan. The woman who Black Widow had called an 'innocent'. If only she knew.

Loki knew alright. He knew of the evil in that woman's mind, in her very soul. It was an evil that even made him shiver, made him sick with disgust.

He remembered seeing her on the streets of New York. She wore a very expensive suit, holding a cell phone in one hand while eating a donut with the other. Despite his desire to get his plans moving forward, Loki stopped and decided that he wanted to know what this woman was really like. It certainty had nothing to do with how much her long, wavy blonde hair looked like Frigga's, he wasn't that sentimental.

Barton followed a few steps behind him, at his master's heals like a very obedient puppy. Loki waved him back as he approached her. Under his guise as a human, this woman had no idea what she was getting into. Instead of the fear and respect he should have seen in her eyes, there was a vague annoyance and…slight sexual attraction?

Looking back he had to admit he enjoyed it. Even coming from a human, that slight dilation of the pupils did make his pride swell within him.

As he drew nearer, he let the veil drop. The woman's eyes went wide with a little shock but then she started to laugh. She laughed at him! He remembered feeling his blood pulse fast through his veins.

"Crazies and idiots. Man this city's full of them. What are you supposed to be huh?"

"I am Loki, the God of Mischief and you should have some respect."

"Well I'm the Queen of Sheba and you should back off."

The woman turned to enter some building and he tapped her with his staff. She froze and her eyes went black. Her thoughts, fears, dreams, everything in her and about her went flooding through his mind. As she awaited instruction, Loki fought the urge to claw his own eyes out.

This woman…no this thing pretending to be a woman…was a monster. Being one himself, or being someone so many proclaimed to be a monster, Loki had an idea of what it took to be one.

He could see her, as clearly as if he had been there, tormenting those she was duty bound to protect. They were three beautiful children, two boys and a girl. Light blonde hair, bright blue/gray eyes and slight builds from malnutrition.

The girl was the youngest and apparently her two older brothers would form a shield around her to protect her from her mother's wrath. Leah was the girl's name. When she was but an infant, her mother broke her arm because she wouldn't stop crying. She told the doctors it was an accident, the little girl had fallen off the porch.

The middle child was named Harrison. Starting in his seventh year he developed an aching fear of everything around him. The slightest loud noise would send him into a fit, running and crying. The harder he tried to hold it in, the worse they got. Eventually he started having breakdowns wherever he went, which lead to an increase in beatings. It only took having his nose broken three times for the boy to finally learn how to control his screaming and crying.

No matter how hard Loki tried to pull away, the black abyss of this woman's presence filled his mind. He couldn't stop himself from seeing every last detail of her deranged personality. Every punch, every meal forsaken for any slight, all of it chased him to a point where it couldn't be avoided.

And to top it all off, the woman had no remorse. In her mind she was doing what was right. She was raising her children to respect her, to fear her, no matter what the cost. Her husband, another piece of useless human trash, let it go on without a word. Better his wife deal with them then he actually have to lift a finger.

Images of the oldest boy started to torment him. He was almost 14 and took the brunt of her anger. This is because he had put it on himself to protect the younger children. He was the eldest, so it was his job. He was tall for his age and strong, but a baseball bat to the spine can knock even the strongest human down.

It was this image that broke him. This strong prideful boy was on his knees, vomiting up blood, screaming and crying for help while his father sat on the couch and watched moving images, behind him and his mother berated the younger kids to go to their rooms. He retched repeatedly, even getting blood on her feet, down his shirt and all over the very expensive carpet. Before Loki saw the punishment the boy would receive for this insolence, he pulled away in a snap.

Camilla Donovan stood in front of him, her eyes black and her body stiff, ready for his instruction. Looking at her made Loki start to feel sick. He almost followed the example of his last vision and got sick all over the woman's fancy suit. He possessed just enough control over himself to prevent that from happening.

Not only was he shocked at this monster in front of him, he was more shocked at his own reaction. He killed many, with little remorse. He took many people's children away from them, either as adults or as actual children who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't as though he gave a damn for the plight of humans or wants to relieve their suffering, that was what his brother was consumed with.

It finally hit him, after a moment. This woman had betrayed her own blood. She had ruined her own children. With no remorse or caring she had turned them into empty vessels, filled with hate and pain. Through her rage and violence she took any future they had and sullied it. Her venomous caring and her scarring touch left them hollow and weak.

She turned her children into monsters. Not to the level of Mrs. Donovan herself, or even to Loki's own higher level of monstrosity, oh no. They were monsters in a whole new way. Through her behavior, the woman in front of him made her children less than human. They no longer fit into the world they were born in. They had no idea how to interact with their own kind, always expecting the next hit. She took away their humanity, their sense of being, she took everything away from the ones she was supposed to protect and she left them adrift, with no one to help them recover.

His hands acted almost of their own volition. He taps her with his staff again and her eyes regained their clarity. She looked frightened, which gave him a very sick thrill. She then grabbed her head, as if in pain.

"Wha…what did you do to me? Y…you were inside my head."

And with all the venom he could muster, he stated, "Yes, and what a dark and disgusting place that was."

He dropped the staff and lunged toward her, wrapping his hands around her throat. He pulled her into an alley, Barton somewhere behind him awaiting orders. Donovan's hands are at his fingers, trying to pry them off as she gasps for air.

"Ah fear, it looks good on you. If only your children were here to see it. I'm sure they'd enjoy seeing you get what you deserve."

She wheezed, trying to get any air to float through her tightening wind pipe. He increased his grip. He could feel his fingers melting into her flesh. Touching her made his skin crawl but for some reason he didn't want it any other way. He wanted to feel her life drain away through his hands.

Suddenly he heard a pop. The blood vessels in her eyes ruptured and the blood began to pour down her face. He took a hold of her with one hand and bashed her head against the wall.

"That's what happens," he whispered savagely in her ear, "when you make a mess. You should live by your own teachings you know."

She removed her hands from his and tried to cover her eyes. She silently cried as the blood filled her vision. Her beautiful hair stuck to her face, held there with blood and pus. In disgust he shook her harder, only to be rewarded with a foul smell.

He looked down to see that the woman was relieving herself through her very expensive pant suit. Her waste dripped down her leg and yet Loki still didn't have his fill. He wanted her degradation to be complete. So he reached up and ripped out a chunk of her hair and let it fall through his fingers.

"Look at this mess," He screamed, pointing to the blood, hair and bodily waste around their feet, "You're disgusting. You're a pig. If you could stand on your own I'd make you lick it up."

Camilla Donovan had just enough life in her to look frightened. Her mouth flapped around a bit, as if she was going to try to reason with him. That made him maddest of all. As if there would be any excuse that would be enough for him. As if there was any way for her to get out of her punishment.

He no longer wanted to be around this woman. So he finally put all of his strength into the matter at hand. Her neck snapped in his hands and then flopped backward; her eyes rolling back as he let her fall.

As if being taken out of a trance, Loki snapped back into the real world. It was a world where he had a lot to do, in a little bit of time. He looked at his hands, only to discover that they were covered in blood. He almost wiped them on himself before he realized what he was doing.

Instead, he called Barton over. Hands behind his back, the one known as Hawkeye waited instruction. Loki calmly took Barton's face in his hands and wiped the blood and pus on both of the man's cheeks. He smiled slightly at the image, one of S.H.I.E.L.D's agents covered in the evidence of his actions. It was war paint of the cruelest kind.

In his mind, Loki could hear the real Barton, the man behind the body, screaming for release. It did him no good; Loki had too much control over him. He tapped Barton on the head and whispered, "good boy" as he walked away. Barton's inner cry of shame and despair at the act was well worth it.

…

Loki gingerly removes his fingernails from the soft flesh of his palm. There are little crescents of blood from digging too hard. The memory flooded him with emotions and the pain in his hands was the only thing keeping him afloat.

The images from the woman's mind do fill him with the anger he wanted earlier, but with a disgust that he could do without. He could feel it tugging at him, the reason behind his actions, why this particular woman was a monster above all others, when he himself was known for his monstrosity.

_It's a weakness. This caring, this emotional attachment to humans, to these worthless people. It shouldn't be happening! If only…if only the woman hadn't been a parent._ If she had beaten anyone else, if she had hurt anyone else other than her children, then he wouldn't have let it affect him the way it did.

But she did and in the deepest recesses of his heart, Loki feels pain. Despite his own hatred, despite his cruel behavior, he feels deeply for those children and what they'll become. He knows it to be a weakness, something that could be used against him if any of the Avengers found out. This soft spot, this caring part of his soul that, despite his best efforts, had not been eradicated and it could be the death of him.

Deep inside himself, where even his best lies will not penetrate, these thoughts give him some hope.

Maybe there's goodness inside him somewhere.

Maybe he's not quite a monster after all.

Then again, he's always been a really good liar.


End file.
